Monthly Archives: February 2015

Welcome back! Today we’ve got a scorcher of a story to share with you. This alpha bad boy is a Navy SEAL who lets nothing stand in his way and does everything he can to protect the ones he loves. Here comes Cash McCoy in… “Flash Fire”, by bestselling author, Elle Kennedy!

Navy SEAL Cash McCoy knows all about danger—he lives and breathes it on a daily basis. When it comes to the love of his life, though, this alpha soldier does everything in his power to keep Jen Scott happy and safe. But when the tables are turned and Jen places herself in harm’s way for her job, their relationship is put to the test. Now Cash must learn to trust the woman he loves…or lose her forever.

Dangerous Passions eBook box set releases March 3rd for the special price of $0.99! Preorder today!!

“I won’t be alone,” she insisted. “I already told you, the magazine is arranging for a military transport. And there’s a whole unit of US Marines down there training the local military.”

“That doesn’t mean shit if you’re in a town that’s overrun with gangs and they open fire on you, or kidnap you, or kill you.”

“We won’t be going into areas like that.”

“The whole country is areas like that!”

Cash snatched his shirt off the floor and threw it on, radiating waves of white-hot anger.

But his response had left her equally infuriated. It would’ve been one thing if he’d calmly suggested they talk it over, but to flat-out say she couldn’t go? With no discussion? Without even hearing the details?

She didn’t mind a caveman in bed, but this was ridiculous.

“I’ll be taking every precaution. And you know I’ve visited poverty-stricken areas before. I only do boring portraits for Today’s World, but I used to travel on my own, remember?”

Every muscle in her body seized to the point of paralysis. Jen could barely take a breath she was so furious. She stared at Cash’s inflexible expression as she struggled to control her temper.

“You have no say in this,” she said stiffly. “If I choose to go, then you can’t stop me.”

She stuck out her chin. “And I choose to go.”

Astonished blue eyes stared back at her. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Does it look like I’m kidding?”

“You’d really put your own neck on the line just so your pictures can be featured in a lead story?”

The harsh words stung. “It’s what I signed up for when I got into photography,” she snapped. “I never wanted to be a bubblegum photographer who takes portraits of cats and babies and frickin’ fruit baskets! I want to shed light on real issues and make a difference.” She glared at him accusingly. “You know that. And you always said you supported it.”

“I do support it.” He glared right back. “But not when there’s a risk to your life.”

“There’s a risk to your life every time you go wheels-up. Every time you’re deployed for months on end.” Frustration clawed up her throat. “I have to live with that every fucking day. The worry and the panic and the fear that I’ll never see you again—”

“Jen—”

“Well, it’s your turn to live with it. I’m going, Cash.”

“Jen…” A warning note crept in.

“I’m going,” she repeated. “And as much as I would love your support about this, I don’t need it in order to accept this assignment. Nor do I need your approval.”

Cash didn’t answer. A noticeable vein appeared in his forehead, his mouth set in a tight, angry line. He looked ready to explode, but Jen didn’t care. His high-handed, domineering reaction to this whole situation had seriously pissed her off.

A Marine whose soul is tortured by his mystical abilities puts his life—and heart—on the line to rescue a Plain Jane school teacher and her students from an archaeological field trip gone horribly wrong.

Sarah McCormick had one last shot at adventure. Resigned to the life of a spinster, the prim school teacher planned to lead five teenage girls to the shadowy isle of Tenebrosa. There, in a tropical paradise, they would study an ancient people and perhaps learn something about themselves. But a mountain of a man upset her plans–a handsome Indian who claimed she and her students would be in peril. And when the virile ex-Marine swore to protect them, Sarah wondered what’s in jeopardy–her body or her heart?

Hawk had to admit that he longed to be enlightened by the brainy beauty. He’d seen the shy schoolmarm cut a man to ribbons with her sharp tongue, and he was haunted by visions of schooling her lush, surprisingly soft lips in passion. He’d touched her only as a protector, but in those moments he’d discovered how delicate and decidedly feminine her long, lithe body was. Now, threatened by an evil as old as Tenebrosa itself, Hawk knew that her kiss could stave off the shadows and their love could light the way to paradise.

Dangerous Passions eBook box set releases March 3rd for the special price of $0.99! Preorder today!!

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.” His voice vibrated across the distance, a bare whisper in the encroaching night.

” Are you following me?” He advanced on her, and Sarah involuntarily backed away as he quickly closed the distance with his long strides.

“Sarah!”

She jumped back from his hoarse command. The flashlight clattered to the ground, and her hair snagged on something behind her. She reached back to free her braid from its entanglement, and Hawk lunged forward.

“No!”

He grabbed her wrist and yanked her toward him. At the same instant, he reached into a pocket of his vest and pulled out a knife. Not a knife. A sword! A wicked, twelve-inch killing thing that glinted in the twilight.

He raised it above his head and swung it down with deadly force. Sarah screamed. She jerked her shoulder away from the sure blow and rammed into the brick wall of his chest. His arm trapped her there like a steel vise and lifted her clear off the ground. She pounded with her fists and kicked with her legs, pummeling for all she was worth, frantic with the knowledge that he would attack her, desperately frightened to realize how much bigger and stronger and unyielding he was than she.

“Sarah! It’s over now. It’s okay.” Her feet touched the ground and his shoulders curved over her, blocking out the rest of the night.

His chest muffled her screams. Through her daze of panic she heard low-pitched reassurances crooning in her ear. The arm that had cinched her to him still held her just as tightly but he splayed his fingers and stroked up and down the side of her rib cage, soothing her like a frightened animal.

As the hazy grip of panic began to clear, she realized that she felt no pain. He hadn’t stabbed her after all.

“What?” She gasped, gathering her composure as much as her breath. “Why?”

Her senses returned and she remembered the knife. The big knife. She angled her head back because she could move no further and slapped at his shoulder. “What are you doing with a weapon like that here? It’s stupid and dangerous—”

“That’s better. I’d rather see you spitting mad than afraid.” She wanted to stay angry with him. She wanted to vent her frustrations, but his unexpected teasing undid her. She stopped her tirade and noticed his mouth, mere inches from hers.

Smiling.

She caught her breath at the sheer masculine beauty of it. Straight white teeth framed by firm, thin lips. They were close enough that she could feel his warm breath fanning across her face. She inhaled the soapy, clean, masculine scent of him, tinged by the faint pungency of the insect salve he, too, wore.

Sarah’s stomach flip-flopped. An unusual heat sparked there and curled lower as a whole new set of sensations vibrated through her, every bit as powerful as her anger, but much more pleasurable. His chest was so hard, his hold unbreakable yet so gentle, his mouth so tempting.

She stared at that temptation and discovered she couldn’t speak. Her throat tightened with a customary clench of shyness. She damned her cursed inability to voice her desires. She wanted to savor the rush of adrenaline coursing through her. She wanted to channel it in a way a woman and man could share together. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to want to kiss her. And yet she knew he wouldn’t. All she could do was lecture him. All he could do was put up with her.

“You were backing into a web.” As if sensing her clouded ability to speak, Hawk took over the duties for her. Grateful for the change of topic that doused both her desire and her embarrassment, she relaxed and followed the inclination of his head. He twisted his right wrist and lifted his knife to eye level. Skewered at the end was a brown, hairy spider the size of two Ping-Pong balls stuck together.

“Spider! Big spider!” she shrieked.

She spun and buried her face in his shoulder. As hard as she had hit him before, she now clutched him tightly, clinging to fistfuls of his shirt and vest. She felt his arm flinch as he flicked the horrid creature into the jungle and wiped the blade clean on his pant leg.

He shifted his stance and wrapped both arms around her, catching her more fully in his embrace. He tugged at her braid, picking out the sticky white residue that had caught her hair. He bent his head and cooed into her ear, calming her with whispers in a language she didn’t understand. The ups and downs of the day caught up with her and she sagged against him, weary with emotional fatigue, grateful for his gentle, steadying strength.

“That’s it, honey. You’re gonna be all right. You’ll beat this like you beat those bureaucrats back home.”

Come here you! *Hugs* Welcome back for another preview of the Dangerous Passions box set! Today we’ll be taking a look at something we’ve all dreamed about, the SEAL’s embrace by bestseller Elle James!

Navy SEAL and a Critical Care Nurse join forces to stop a terrorist attack at a military hospital

Navy SEAL, Ceasar Sanchez has it bad for Army Lt. McGee, a nurse at Bagram Airfield in Afghanistan. When a rescue mission goes bad and he ends up being medically evacuated, she’s there. Not sure whether he’ll walk again, he’s afraid to pursue the pretty nurse, not wanting to shackle her with half a man.

Lt. Erin McGee is a Critical Care Air Transport Team nurse, responsible for ensuring her patients arrive alive at the next level of health care. Fighting an attraction to a sexy Navy SEAL she outranks, she resists the risk of losing her commission for fraternization. But one sensual tryst behind a supply building isn’t enough and the SEALs determination to see her wear at her resolve. Ceasar and Erin share a medevac plane ride to Germany with a critically wounded Taliban leader who could provide information to the whereabouts of four missing soldiers.

In the hospital at Landstuhl, Caesar and Erin fight their attraction for each other while a terrorist plot is underfoot to rescue the Taliban leader. Together they struggle to save lives and halt the an attack, while finding that love trumps rank every time.

Dangerous Passions eBook box set releases March 3rd for the special price of $0.99! Preorder today!!

Irish backhanded him in the chest. “I think you’ve met your match in that one.”

By the way Lt. McGee was shaking her pretty red head, Irish might have it right. What Irish didn’t realize was just how much Caesar had been working to break down the lady’s defenses. “Trust me, at this very moment, she’s on the brink of raising the white flag.”

“Sorry, I have to go. My future awaits.” Caesar took off across the floor, his focus on the petite nurse with deep auburn hair and emerald green eyes.

With her full, luscious lips pressed into a thin line, she led him deeper into the clinic to an examination room. All the way down the aisle, Caesar couldn’t help but notice the way her hips swayed beneath the flight suit that hugged her body like a tailored glove.

His groin tightened along with his resolve to have this beauty.

“Sit,” she ordered, pointing to the examination table.

Caesar hopped up on the table and spread his knees wide. The only way she was getting to that cut finger was to step between them. Still wearing his PT shorts, he realized the mistake that was. With nothing much to hold him back, he tented the shorts in an instant when the door closed to the room and they were alone.

“You really have to stop cutting yourself. This camp is full of all kinds of germs. Keep this up and you might lose that finger altogether.” She pulled a gauze pad out of a drawer, alcohol pads and a bandage before she turned and met his gaze, her own green eyes dancing with humor. “And the answer is no.” She pressed her lips together.

“How did you know I was about to ask a question? I might really be here to seek aid for my cut finger.”

“Uh huh.” She shook her head and stepped between his knees. “Two times in the same week is suspicious. Three times cutting the same finger, and that the injuries just happen to be on the same days as I’m volunteering at the clinic, is proof. You’re stalking me.” She bumped the inside of his thighs with her hips and sucked in a sharp breath, moving back quickly, her cheeks turning a rosy shade of pink.

So, she wasn’t immune to his presence. She just needed a little persuasion.

Hello again, I hope you’re having a wonderful week! If today’s been a little gloomier than usual, just remember that there are infinite possibilities and you never know when a hero (maybe you, maybe a stranger) will emerge and save the day! That, and someone out there is probably having a worse day than you! Case-in-point: Today’s selection from the Dangerous Passions Box Set brings us two people who had a bad day that was made better by a steamy night– only to have one of them become witness to a murder. To escape danger once and for all, the two of them must hunt down the murderer and bring them to justice. Here is Bridger’s Last Stand by bestselling author, Linda Winstead Jones.

In the grand scheme of things, Detective Malcolm Bridger’s day was much worse than Frannie Vaughn’s.

She’d had a bad day…

As if getting fired wasn’t bad enough, the haircut Frannie got to cheer herself up was a complete disaster.

He’d had a bad day…

Homicide Detective Mal Bridger had never killed a man. Until today.

They meet by chance, and one very bad day turns into a pretty good night. But when their one night stand makes Frannie a witness to murder and puts her in danger, Mal refuses to let her out of his sight until the murderer is caught.

He never meant to be a hero, and she never knew she needed one . . .

Dangerous Passions eBook box set releases March 3rd for the special price of $0.99! Preorder today!!

The music came to an end, and they stopped moving. Bridger didn’t let her go right away, but held her hand and kept a steadying arm around her. “Maybe we shouldn’t blow up the jukebox after all,” he whispered.

Another selection soon took the place of the slow love song, and the spell was broken. Harsh sounds filled the bar, and Frannie jerked her head around to look at the jukebox. “That’s it,” she said, forgetting Reese and her lost job. Bridger’s arms fell away. “What?” He faced the jukebox with her, his entire body alert as he faced an unseen threat.

“That’s the noise my car’s making.” A man with a reverberating deep voice was repeating a short phrase, quick, choppy and harsh, the sound vibrating through tinny speakers. It sounded just like the engine of her ancient Buick.

Bridger relaxed visibly and led her back to the bar. “I don’t know a lot about cars, but I’d say that’s at least a five-hundred-dollar noise.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

They reclaimed their stools, side by side. The place was uncomfortably empty without the chattering women they’d listened to all evening. Frannie played with what was left of her drink.

It was melted, unappetizing, and she’d had her limit, anyway. But she didn’t want to leave. What did she have waiting for her at home? She loved her little house, but there was nothing—no one—waiting for her there. There were just messages from her mother and a little harsh reality, and she was in no mood to face either at the moment.

An old man, the last of the night’s crowd but for Bridger and Frannie, tossed a bill onto the table and weaved his way to the door, waving over his shoulder to Benny.

“He’s not going to drive, is he?” Frannie asked as she watched the man stumble, check the floor for a nonexistent hazard, and move on.

“No,” Bridger answered. “I’ve seen him around. He lives around the corner in that old department store they converted into apartments a couple years back.”

“Last call,” Benny said cheerfully, and they twirled around to face him as he placed two fresh drinks on the bar. “This round’s on me.”

The jukebox was silent at last. Benny was turning the chairs up on the tables that were scattered throughout the room, preparing to sweep up and close for the night.

Frannie didn’t want to go home. She played with the drink before her, stabbing at the frozen concoction with her straw and drinking nothing, delaying the inevitable. Bridger was gloomy again, as miserable as he had been when she’d first arrived and seen him sitting there staring into his drink. Maybe he didn’t want to go home, either.

They hadn’t talked about the shooting since he’d told her what happened, but it had to be on his mind. He’d saved lives today, but he’d also taken one. That couldn’t be easy. She glanced again at the gun he wore.

She liked Bridger too much. It wasn’t just that he was pleasant to talk to, or that he was a great dancer. He had a kind soul, and she’d known it after talking to him for five minutes. She sat beside a kind soul in a six-foot-plus body, a guardian angel with a gun strapped to his belt, a man who could love a woman and protect her from anything.

Two drinks and she was hallucinating. “Good night, Detective Bridger,” she said, a false brightness in her voice as she slid from the bar stool and put those ideas out of her mind. “Thanks for commiserating with me.”

He mumbled something that sounded like “any time,” but she couldn’t be sure.

“Good-night, Benny,” she said without looking back. “I’m going to make a pit stop and then I’m headed for home.”

She really didn’t want to go home, back to the house that was small and yet too big for one person, back to the messages from her mother that she would eventually have to answer, back to the reality that she didn’t have a job anymore. She was at a crossroads, and she didn’t know where to go from here.

When she came out of the rest room, she was surprised to find Bridger waiting for her. He was leaning against the wall by the pay phone with his head down and his hands in his pockets.

As the ladies’ room door swung closed, he lifted his head.

When his eyes latched on to hers her heart skipped a beat. Malcolm Bridger had cop’s eyes: eyes that had seen too much and never missed anything. How could eyes like that be anything but lonely?

“I can’t let you drive home,” he said softly.

“I walked,” she said quickly. “I wanted to show that good-for-nothing car of mine that I didn’t need it. My house isn’t too far. I don’t think it took me twenty minutes to get here.” Of course, it had started raining on her when she’d been halfway to Rick’s. Maybe walking hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

“I’ll drive you,” he said, never moving from the spot where he’d planted his feet. She had the impression it was a statement, not an offer.

She was treading on very dangerous ground, and she knew it. She should play it safe, brush him off, call a cab, maybe laugh at him for good measure. Frannie Vaughn did not make a habit of picking up strangers in bars. She was a good girl, a cautious woman. Her mother had taught her well, by bad example if not design.

So why did she have the overwhelming desire to walk into Detective Bridger’s arms and ask him to hold her tight?

Why did she want to bury her face against his chest and breathe deeply once again?

Loneliness, certainly. Lust, maybe. She wasn’t particularly well acquainted with the latter.

Welcome back readers! Today we’ll be looking at the second story in the Dangerous Passions box set written by… who was it again? Oh right, me! This is something a little different from my usual writing, so I hope you enjoy my undercover mafia thriller, In Too Deep!

Angel has been deep undercover in the mob for too many years. Love is the last thing on her mind. Until Frank walks into her life once again. She almost fell in love with him four years ago, but had to betray him to the mob to protect her cover. He barely got away with his life, and now he hates her.

Too bad they’ve been partnered to work together. As man and wife.

Dangerous Passions eBook box set releases March 3rd for the special price of $0.99! Preorder today!!

He had to get out. Now. The thought sizzled through Frank’s brain like a current of electricity, while across the crowded ballroom the subject of his turmoil calmly played her game. Stunning in her shimmering blue gown, she glittered like a precious gem in this setting of the rich and elite.

Emotions clashed and careened wildly within him. Was that really Angel? The woman he had once loved. The woman he had hated for four long years. He couldn’t be sure.

He had never wanted to see her again and yet now he couldn’t stop staring at this woman who looked so much like her. His mind screamed retreat while his burning emotions demanded confrontation. Frozen by his doubt, he forced himself to linger until he could determine her identity.

A waiter hovered by a circle of guests offering hor d’oeuvres, cutting off Frank’s view of the woman. The room swam back into focus, and he damned the Bureau for forcing him to spend his first night in New York at this glitzy, shallow party. But they’d given him no choice. Somewhere in this room his new partner waited to meet him. If the woman really was Angel…. He hooked his index finger in the collar of his white, pleated shirt and tugged. He didn’t even want to think about the disaster that would cause.

All about him people tossed chips around and laughed, careless of how much they lost. The theme was Monte Carlo, the aim to raise money for cancer. Frank chose to observe. Gambling went along with his job—along with the requisite losses.

The waiter moved, and he gazed again at the woman in the blue dress.

At least once, he’d lost more than he could afford.

His gaze followed the curves outlined by the iridescent blue gown. So far, he’d only seen her from the side. She stood at the roulette table. Her dark hair, sleekly pulled to the back of her head with a gold clip, shone in the soft light. Could Angel have tamed her riotous curls into a smooth coil like that? Probably not. His eyes narrowed. The graceful curve of her neck looked the same.

As she turned around and leaned over the table to scoop up the chips she’d just won, laughing, revealing the deep crevice in the dip of her neckline, his pulse lurched. Surely the woman didn’t realize how much flesh she exposed. Every man near her did, however. Because, just like Angel, she had a generous amount of cleavage to expose.

It couldn’t be Angel. The last time he’d seen her had been in Hawaii.

Hawaii. Four years ago. He’d gone to the island on a case, following the notorious drug lord Domenic Cavaglione. Frank’s department had known something big was planned when Cavaglione headed there for an extended vacation. Frank and his partner had been dispatched to keep an eye on the suspect’s activities. Cavaglione had spent the first few weeks attending a few closed meetings, but basically biding his time.

Frank and his partner had cycled shifts watching their target and Frank used the dead time to work on his tan and enjoy the sights. He’d soon found a sight worth watching in the beach front cabin three down from his. Angel Tortina.

He remembered the first time he’d seen her. With her long curls swirling around her shoulders, she’d been wearing a bright crimson bikini that made his heart pump triple time. Her legs were long and shapely and she was generously curved in all the right places. With a figure most women would die for, she still maintained an air of sweet innocence that attracted him far more than mere physical attributes, though he couldn’t deny that her body enticed him. After all, he was a normal, healthy male.

He’d made a point of meeting her and for three weeks they’d spent time together, enjoying each other’s company, getting to know each other. She’d been just an interesting diversion—until he realized he was falling in love with her.

Sweet Angel. His body had ached for her. So many times he had come close to sweeping her up and carrying her back to one of their cabins to make passionate love, but her delicate, hesitant kisses told him she was…inexperienced. If he’d had more time, if he hadn’t been on a job… He’d wanted to be the one to show her the ways of love.

Then he’d found out who she was—and who she worked for. Cavaglione!

Even then, smitten as he was, he’d actually believed Angel could never be involved in illegal activities, that somehow she had been unaware of her boss’ shady dealings. Frank didn’t want to remember what had happened after that. He’d been a fool! He’d never made such a grave mistake in his life. He was lucky it hadn’t been a fatal mistake, not only for himself but for his partner, too.

A burst of laughter nearby dragged Frank back to the present. He grabbed his drink and gulped it down, trying to drown the bitter taste of self-disgust.

* * *

Angel knew she was being watched. A person couldn’t get very far in her business without developing a special sense about these things. She glanced around and saw a scowling man thump his drink on the table, then glare into the liquid depths. Had it been him? She continued scanning the room. She knew that prickly feeling.

She stacked her chips in four neat piles. One white, two red, and one short pile of blue. She picked up a red one and tossed it onto the square marked fifteen. Fifteen? That had been her cabin number in Hawaii. She frowned. Why would that come back to her now after so many years?

Again, she felt the prickle and glanced up, unconsciously fixing on the same man she’d noticed earlier. His expression neutral now, he stared at someone two tables over, yet Angel was sure she’d seen his focus shift slightly when she’d locked her gaze onto him.

His features were obscured by the dim light. Staring intently, she could make out an angular jaw, dark, wavy hair cut short on the sides and longer on the top, and eyebrows that angled up and away from his straight nose. He reminded her of the one man she’d do anything to forget.

Frank O’Connor.

But of course this wasn’t Frank. As far as she knew, he was still in California. This man just resembled Frank. She stared down at her hands and realized she was flipping a chip over and over between her fingers. The croupier declared final bets before starting the wheel.

Frank represented an episode in her life she’d rather not think about. He had fallen in love with her and he’d gotten hurt. Well, damn it, that wasn’t her fault. Fool. You should have stayed away from him as soon as you started to fall for him.

Glancing at the ball spinning round the wheel, she sipped her wine spritzer. Right now she had enough to cope with in her job without worrying about a ghost from her past. Her current task was at a standstill and her boss planned to bring someone else on to work with her. She had a very bad feeling about that.

The clink of the ball into its final destination triggered a groan from the man next to her.

“Fifteen. You won again.” The woman beside Angel nudged her.

Angel focused on the new pile of chips the croupier pushed toward her and started to sort and stack them neatly onto her piles. She glanced in the direction of the scowling man and this time their gazes clashed.

Good Lord, it was Frank! She knocked down two of her piles as her hand flew to her chest.

He started to get up. Panic flared within her. He was coming to confront her! No, not here! He couldn’t!

After what she’d done to him, how he’d looked at her with murderous intent the last time she’d seen him, she realized he could. And would.

Her heart pounded against the wall of her chest as she stepped back from the table, trying to ignore her roiling stomach. She’d scanned the ballroom for all the exits earlier, a precaution she always took.

“Ma’am. Don’t forget your chips.”

Her attention flickered away from Frank’s intent gaze for a fraction of a second and she glanced at the croupier.

“I…uh… Take them as a donation.” She waved her hands distractedly.

He smiled and swept them away from her into the house pot. “That’s very generous, ma’am. Have a good evening.”

She glanced back toward Frank, expecting him to be closing the distance between them. But he was no where to be seen. She glanced around and saw a broad, tuxedo-covered back disappear out a side exit.

The title says it all! A box set full of steamy studs & hunky heroes… mmm! Over the next two weeks, we’ll be providing a spotlight for each story in the set and sharing an exclusive excerpt 🙂 Each story is written by a fellow bestselling author, so not only are you getting every hero you could ever want, but they’ll all be wrapped up in stories you’ll never forget! So without further adieu, here’s Death Trap, by NYT & USAT bestselling author, Dana Marton!

The only woman he could ever love, has a secret he could never forgive.

Sophie Curtis is a heart-transplant recipient with some spooky body memories. She’s been in her own antiseptic bubble for so long, she just might not be able to venture out into the real world again.

Whatever shred of optimism Ethan Bing had left after becoming Broslin Chief of Police had been seared out of him by the unsolved murder of his wife two years ago. Then Sophie pops into his life, and she gets through his defenses like no other, but soon it becomes clear that she’s been selected as the killer’s next victim.

Dangerous Passions eBook box set releases March 3rd for the special price of $0.99! Preorder today!!

Bing drove them home, led the dog to the back, and snapped off the leash, then shook his head with a smile when Peaches took a leaping run as he spotted a squirrel at the back fence.

“Thank you.” She grinned after the goofball before turning to Bing. “And thank you for the gardening.

And the bath too. This is more progress than I would have made in a month on my own. I—”

“I enjoyed it,” he said quietly, watching her face.

She blinked. “You did? But it was just a lot of work.”

“I enjoyed spending time with you.”

Oh. Pleasure spread through her. “Me too.”

She walked him back up front, feeling thrilled and awkward in equal measure. They stopped on the stoop outside the door.

A half smile came to play on his lips. “You’re easy to be around. And easy on the eye. That’s a bonus.” He caught himself. Took a step back. “I have no right to be saying that. I’m not in a place where—”

“I’m attracted to you too,” she blurted, then wished the earth would just open up beneath her and swallow her up along with the wave of embarrassment that washed over her. She had no idea how to act around a man she was attracted to. She was pitifully inexperienced when it came to dating.

He stepped closer with an intense, thoughtful look on his face. “We shouldn’t do this.”

“We never kissed,” she deadpanned. “Dr. Pratt and I are not interested in each other that way.”

The sound of his deep laughter broke the tension between them. He moved a little closer still.

“Dr. Pratt says intimacy is all right, unless the other person is sick.” She couldn’t believe she just said that.

Why not put a neon sign on her forehead? DESPERATE FOR SEX.

“This isn’t going to work.” He leaned his forehead against hers, the skin-to-skin contact jolting. “This isn’t the right time for either of us.” His hands slid up her arms. “I shouldn’t kiss you,” he said.

And then he did.

Holy heavens.

He didn’t do more than brush his lips over hers, and her head was swimming. Her heart seemed to skip several beats, which gave her a moment of anxiety before she remembered that it might be normal. Things like that were frequently mentioned in romance novels.

She’d just never thought it was real, that she could ever feel a wave of desire as intense as this. Bing slowly put his arms around her, drawing her closer, and suddenly her breasts were snuggled against his hard chest. Tingles ran across her skin. Then he nibbled on her lower lip gently, and her knees went weak.

She lifted her hands to his waist, for support first, then they somehow slipped around him and moved up the rippling muscles of his back. His body felt like a work of art under her fingertips.

A long minute of bliss passed before he eased back to look at her.

She stared at him, dazed, then gathered herself.

“I’m not like this normally.” They barely knew each other, even if she’d felt an instant connection, almost from the moment she’d met him.

He raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Brazen.” If that was the right word.

He shook his head, that half smile coming out again. “Think again. You just locked lips with the police captain on your front stoop for everyone to see.”

She felt her face flush as he watched her, conflicting emotions crossing his face. The half smile disappeared as he stepped back.

“Don’t say it,” she blurted. “Don’t say it was a mistake, or apologize or—” She wanted to keep that one perfect moment as it was, even if they never had another.

His gaze darkened. “Apologizing couldn’t be further from what I’m thinking.”

Did the air thin suddenly? She felt like it did. He watched her with an intensity that made it impossible to look away from him. As if he was wrestling with an important decision.